Crybaby
by bullybullet6
Summary: After Derek turned his back, Isaac was, for lack of a better word, homeless. The night in the Glenn Capri Motel was a terrifying ordeal for him, yet by a stroke of fate and a dash of luck, she was there to comfort him. She offers him care. She offers him the spare bedroom of her house. IsaacxOC. Relative slowburn.
1. Chapter 1

So, this little story has been hiding in the back of my storage drive for a couple years now. I decided to finally post it because why not. Plot gets nice and juicy after chapter 2 :))

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 **CHAPTER 1**

Rori pulled her car into the parking lot of the Glenn Capri motel. For a tiny place in the middle of nowhere, it wasn't all that bad.

She'd been in Forestdale for the past week, visiting her father and stepmother. It wasn't often she was able to see them after she was sent away to live with Uncle Thomas.

 _It's for your own safety_ , her father, Patrick's, voice echoed in her head.

She only ever saw her parents every few months and her uncle was scarcely home due to his work. Though Rori enjoyed her new life in Beacon Hills, she was admittedly lonely.

Now, as she swung her duffel bag over her shoulder and clicked her silver car locked, Rori headed to the front office. She placed her identification on the counter and handed some cash to the wheezing lady on the other side of the desk, asking for a room for the night.

"Sorry, sweetie," the lady said, not sounding at all sorry, "Only one free bed and it's in a room with one of _his_ kids."

Rori turned to look where the lady was gesturing. A man with dark hair and a whistle around his neck had just finished making coffee with the ancient machine collecting dust in the corner. Taking a sip, his expression soured and he immediately spat the mouthful back into the Styrofoam cup. The man tossed the drink into the garbage as though it were the plague itself and proceeded to shiver in disgust. It was almost comical, and were Rori not upset about possibly not having a bed to sleep in, she might have laughed at Coach Finstock.

As if realising he was being watched, he looked over to the counter. "What? 'S there something on my face?"

Rori fought back a smile. The old lady grunted, unamused. "One of your kids got the only room with a spare bed. She shares with yours, or she don't got a bed to sleep on."

The lady's tone was lacking any sympathy for Rori, who looked pleadingly at the Coach.

The man looked taken aback. "Hell no. I'm not letting some random stranger share a room with one of my best players!"

"Random stranger?" Rori asked incredulously, "Mr Finstock, I'm in your Economics class."

He paused and looked at her scrutinisingly before his face showed recognition. "Rori? Rori!" He beamed as he approached, "What the hell are you doing out here? You're not stalking my team are you?"

Rori laughed softly. "No, sir. I'm on my way back from visiting my parents."

"Well in that case, I got no issue with you taking up the last bed." He turned to the old woman, "She can share with one of mine."

After a fleeting conversation about how she'd passed the latest pop quiz with flying colours, Rori and Finstock reached a door labelled _213_.

"Lahey, I'm coming in!" He yelled as he unlocked the door, "Make yourself decent!"

The door swung open as Finstock handed her the second room key. He gestured for her to enter first.

Inside the room were two twin beds on the left wall, an old television set on the right, and behind that was the door to the bathroom. Out of the door stepped a boy. He was tall, broad: the lacrosse type that Finstock favoured. He wore a white shirt and blue pants. The boy was towelling his damp hair as he walked, pausing when he noticed his coach wasn't alone.

"Lahey, this is your roommate for the night." The man declared. "Now I know what you stupidly hormonal teenagers are like, so separate beds, people."

"Yes, sir." Rori said honestly.

The coach looked between the two of them suspiciously. "Seriously, no funny business. None. If I catch you doing the do, Lahey, you'll be benched the next game, and you, Missy," He gazed down at her pointedly, "You'll have detention when we get back."

Rori pursed her lips and nodded her head, trying not to roll her eyes at his absurdness. Honestly, it was as if he thought teenagers wanted nothing but sex.

"Play nice." He warned as he finally left, closing the door behind him.

Rori turned to face the boy. He now had his towel hanging around his neck and his chin slightly raised, a watchful and guarded expression on his face. Rori, without comment, made her way to the far side of the left bed. She began pulling out her nightwear and her toiletries, placing them on the bed in an orderly line.

The boy walked between the two beds, standing on the opposite side of her mattress.

"You look familiar." It was said offhandedly, but his curiosity was still obvious to her.

"I would expect as much. I'm in your year." Rori looked up from her work briefly and sent him a smile.

"Got a name?"

"Rori."

"Isaac."

Isaac sniffed quietly and she raised her head once more. The boy seemed surprised at his own actions.

"Have you got any allergies I should know about?" She pried.

"No, no. I'm not allergic to anything. Do you smell that?" Then he sneezed.

That's when Rori became suspicious. She picked up the nearest thing to her -a water bottle- and held it out to him.

"Could you put this on the nightstand, please?"

Isaac reached for it, but as his fingertips brushed the skin of her hand he inhaled, and another terrible sneeze overcame him. His eyes flashed yellow. As he opened his mouth, about to start babbling an explanation, Rori asked, "Beta or omega?"

Isaac's lips parted in shock. "How did you…"

"Know you were a werewolf?" Rori finished with a smile, "My family secret, I guess."

"You're a born werewolf." He concluded.

She laughed lightly. "Nope, just human. Stepmother's one, though. Taught me all the secrets."

Isaac scrunched his nose, fighting off yet another sneeze. "What's happening to me?"

Rori smirked playfully and held up a small bottle. "Wolfsbane perfume. Dad says I have to wear it when I'm travelling. Lets me know who I'm getting involved with. Neat, huh?"

Isaac grimaced at the bottle in her hand, stepping away cautiously. "I guess you could say that."

Rori threw the bottle in and zipped up the bag now that she had everything she needed and slid it under the bed. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna try anything fishy."

Isaac snorted. "I'd be comforted if it weren't for the scent of wolfsbane making me feel like someone punched me in the face."

Rori smiled apologetically. "Sorry about that. You seem like a nice guy and all, so I don't think you'd try anything unsavoury either, but just be warned that if you try to rip my throat out I'll contaminate your respiratory system with enough wolfsbane perfume to last me a year." She scooped up the pyjamas. "I've seen it happen once. It was…" She shuddered.

Isaac was looking at her like he was unsure how to feel about being in her presence. "You don't have to worry about that kind of thing from me." He assured her.

"Great! Friends then?" She grinned widely, cheerily at him.

He finally smiled at her. "Sure. Friends."

"You know; I'd shake your hand or something but it'd most likely just mess your nose up even more."

Isaac chuckled quietly. "Maybe another time."

Rori started walking. "I'm gonna have a shower and get all this wolfsbane off me. You might not keep away from me so much afterwards."

When the door was shut and the water running, Isaac _hmph_ -ed, content, and sat on his bed with a quirked smile.

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	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

Rori exited the bathroom in a black t-shirt and blue sweats. Her hair was a mess of damp brunette curls as he had not yet put a comb to it. She walked past Isaac, who was sitting against the headboard of his bed with a pillow in his lap looking insanely bored.

Rori collected her toiletries as he said out of the blue, "Beta."

Her brows furrowed in confusion.

"You asked me if I was beta or omega. I'm a beta."

"I knew there was something wolfish going on." She commented, "I just never thought there was an _actual pack_ in Beacon Hills."

Isaac seemed amused. "And then some," He quipped like it was an inside joke.

"Anyone I'd know?" She prodded teasingly.

He shook his head. "That would be their choice to tell you, not mine."

"Loyal _and_ protective. You're good beta material." She noted.

"Thanks… I think."

Rori didn't reply, only sat herself on her own bed, facing him, and started running the brush through her hair. Every so often she'd catch his gaze drifting to her, and, noticing she was already blatantly watching him, looked away awkwardly. It amused her that her stare made a beta werewolf fidget in his spot.

"So, Lahey," she leisurely started after a few moments of silence, "How long have you been a moon howler?"

He scoffed light-heartedly. "'Moon howler'? Really?"

The brunette laughed and set down her comb. "Yes, really. You can't tell me you've never done it."

He stared at her and said nothing.

She grinned devilishly, knowingly. "Not even once? Not even during your first full moon?"

Isaac sighed in defeat and embarrassment, looking away from her to the pillow in his lap. "Okay, yeah. My first full moon… It wasn't pretty."

Rori smirked and leaned closer to the edge of her bed. "Do tell me more."

Isaac gave her a hesitant look and continued. "I escaped the police station before any officers saw me. I ran out of town and into the woods and I… I…" He put a face over his face and muffled something unintelligible to her human ears.

He teetered over the edge of the cheap mattress and slightly turned her left ear to him. "Sorry, I didn't quite catch that last part."

Isaac removed the hand from his face. "I ran naked through the woods, howling like a lunatic."

The room was still for pregnant pause; him waiting for her reaction and her processing this new information. Then as soon as the silence settled it was shattered.

Rori threw her head back and laughed louder than she had since she moved away from her parents. She clutched the pillow to her chest as the giddy sound escaped her. After a couple of moments, she calmed herself and wiped at her wet eyes. She glanced at Isaac to see his face was flushed red in embarrassment, but as he watched her laugh, a smile forced his lips to tilt upwards.

"Wow," she remarked, exhaling another laugh. "That's almost as bad as Rupert."

"Rupert?" Isaac's head tilted like a curious puppy.

"Rupert is one of my stepmom's beta. His first full moon was four years ago. It took three members of the pack to pull him, butt naked, off a streetlamp. He was _humping_ it. Like crazy, not to mention."

A sudden chuckle escaped Isaac, and Rori smiled at the sound. "Yeah, I guess my first time could've been a lot more embarrassing…" He trailed off for a moment. "Or dangerous."

Rori's face fell for a fraction of a section as she was reminded that werewolves weren't the best company when out of their human mind. Determined to keep the mood light, she perked upright on the bed and folded her legs beneath her. "Lucky that didn't happen then, huh?"

Isaac nodded slowly in agreement. "Yeah, I… I guess so."

Rori snatched her toiletry bag up and headed to the bathroom so clean up before bed.

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The room was dark. The only source of light was emanating from the television. Isaac was sitting on the end of his bed, holding the remote in front of him.

"Why'd you turn out the lights? It's not even that late yet," Rori asked as she sat on her own bed, flicking on the lamp.

Isaac ignored her. He stared intently at the static.

"Hey," She tried again, "Isaac?"

Again, he didn't respond. The remote was still held out before him and he was still as a statue. Rori, becoming concerned, got up and walked over to him. She bent down in front of him but he only seemed to stare right through her.

 _What on Earth?_

She grabbed his shoulder and gave it a harsh shake. "Isaac!"

The boy started with a blink, dropping his remote hand and looking at Rori, confused. "When did you get out of the bathroom?"

"Like, a minute ago." She answered, moving back to her own bed. "You kind of spaced out and went all googly-eyed at the TV. You didn't even realise I was right in front of you."

Isaac swallowed deeply. "Yeah, sorry. I just got a lot on my plate right now. It's probably stress or something."

"Or something." Rori mumbled unbelievingly.

"I heard that, you know." He told her with a raised brow. "My hearing is superhuman."

"I know, you were meant to." She flashed an unapologetic smile at him.

Rori sat on top of her bed as silence fell between them. She looked over to see Isaac still sitting on the end of his bed, his knee bouncing lightly.

"I can tell you have a lot of questions for me."

Isaac's mouth opened. "What? No, I just-"

"Oh, _come on_ , Lahey! I can basically see them all whirring around in that head of yours," Rori teased playfully, "Just go ahead and ask."

He seemed hesitant. "I can ask you anything?"

Rori grinned and nodded. "Anything."

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	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

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 _Thought they should get to know one another better. Major action happening next chapter._

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"Okay then," he swung around, crawling to the side of his bed so only the space between the mattresses divided them, "How long have you been in Beacon Hills?"

"Little over a year now."

"Why?"

"Stepmom's pack and a neighbouring one are in dispute over some territory. The fighting got pretty bad so Dad sent me to live with distant family 'for my own good'." She answered honestly. "And before you ask, I was out of town because I was visiting my parents."

The tall boy nodded as she spoke. "And you've never met a werewolf in Beacon Hills?"

"Nope," She shook her head and then smiled. "Not until tonight. I wonder how many more I'll meet now I'm actually on the lookout…" She trailed off.

"Ugh, I'm gonna get _killed_ for spilling the secret." Isaac groaned and shoved a pillow over his own face.

"Hey now," she chided playfully. "You didn't spill, I figured it out. Anybody else I snuff out, I get to take credit for."

"When you put it like that..." He agreed with her. Her smirk turned into a beaming smile as she realised he was relaxing around her, acting less tense. "So who do you hang out with at school? I've never really seen you around before." He grimaced as he realised how rude it might have sounded to her. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

Rori laughed him off lightly. "I know you didn't. To be honest, I usually just chill in the library when I'm free. If I get homework done during school, I have the afternoon to do whatever, you know?" Her pleasant smile remained as she shrugged casually. Then she tilted her head as she regarded him sitting there, cross-legged, watching her speak as he hugged a pillow to his stomach. "May I ask you something?"

He looked slightly concerned. "Err, yeah. It's only fair, I guess."

"It's really personal so you don't have to answer." He nodded minutely at her. "I heard that your Dad died in an animal attack, and now that I know you got the bite, I have to ask… Did you kill your father?"

Isaac looked wounded.

"I'm sorry, that was terribly rude." Rori began rambling, "It was just that if you had done something like that I would have liked to known since I'm, you know, gonna be sleeping only a few feet from you."

Then he looked angry.

"You know what," she backpedalled, "Just forget I asked."

"I should have," he growled.

Her eyebrows drew together. "What do you mean?"

He was glaring down at her knee, refusing to make eye contact. His eyes flashed yellow. "I should have killed him."

Rori was quickly regretting being nice enough to pack away her wolfsbane. She was well aware that most werewolves had trouble managing their anger but this was more than that, and she would feel a lot safer with a spray bottle in her hand at the moment. "Why would you say something like that, Isaac?" she asked with carefully hidden trepidation.

He growled again, and Rori was thankful that his canines hadn't made an appearance yet. Instead of putting space between them like her instincts screamed at her to do, her body moved itself to the very edge of the bed.

"He was a monster. He beat me, locked me in an old freezer chest and chained it shut. I didn't kill him but I should have; then I would've been free of him sooner."

Rori sat back, shocked. Her lips parted as she exhaled, lost on what to say. Isaac still had his glowing eyes on her knee, his breathing heavy and his fingers digging into the pillow he was holding to his stomach.

"I'm sorry he did that to you. But Isaac," she tentatively put a hand on his knee, "You didn't want to kill your dad. You may have hated him, and _he_ may have been a monster, but _you're_ not."

"How would you know?" He spat, the tips of his fangs flashing behind his lips, his eyes snapping up to meet hers. But she didn't flinch away.

"That you're not a monster? Because right now I'm looking into your eyes and they're a shimmering yellow, not the icy blue of someone who's viciously taken a life." She patted his knee. "You don't have the eyes of a killer."

His canines sank away from sight and his eyes changed back to their human blue, pale like the sky in summer.

"Or maybe I'm wrong," Rori laughed nervously, "Because your cuddle buddy isn't looking so good."

Isaac looked down. The pillow he was holding against him had shred marks through it, the insides falling out into his lap. He'd accidentally clawed it open. He looked up to Rori, who had a silly grin on her face.

"Oops." She said for him.

He smiled despite himself, chucking the pillow and its stuffing into the corner behind his bed. His grin faded. Isaac pursed his lips. "You're not afraid of spending the night with me?"

Rori could have gone into a story about how she lived with her werewolf stepmother, and had friendly ties with eight out of the nine other wolves in her pack, but she decided maybe now wasn't the time. "Because you're a volatile werewolf, or because we're both hormonal teenagers sleeping within groping distance of each other?" He blushed and looked away. "No, I'm not afraid. But I don't want detention, so stay on your own bed or suffer the wrath of Finstock."

He nodded, but the wary expression didn't leave his face. Rori pulled up the covers and slipped under them. She peeked over the sheets at Isaac, who was scratching the back of his neck in thought. "You should try to get some sleep." She said.

"You try being a werewolf sharing a room with a chick who's got a bag full of wolfsbane beauty products, and let's see how you sleep." Isaac joked dryly. Rori threw a pillow at him, which he caught easily and hugged to his chest. "You're not getting this back."

Rori rolled her eyes. She flicked off the lamp and turned away from him, "Shut up and go to sleep, wolf boy."

He laughed softly at her. From under the covers, she smiled.

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 _Review :)_


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you for showing your support for this story. I'm so happy that other people agree Isaac needs some loving. To answer your questions, updates will be every few weeks due to university. Enjoy the next chapter!_

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 **CHAPTER 4**

"I know what the difference between a seven and a nine is, it's a strip bolt!"

Rori woke to the sound of Isaac's exclamation. She rolled to face him as he sat on the edge of his bed. The covers were untouched, so he'd slept without them if he slept at all. The moonlight cast over him, reflecting off the sweat on his face and neck. Perhaps he'd had a nightmare.

"I'm sorry, I didn't…"

For a moment Rori thought he might have been talking to someone else, but with a look around the dark room she noted nobody else was in there. She sat up, concerned.

"What do you want me to do?"

The fear in his voice only alarmed her further. Rori untangled the sheets from her body and cautiously made her way on her hands and knees to the edge of the bed.

"I want you to shut up!"

She rose from the bed and approached him with trepidation, careful not to get within clawing distance.

"Just shut up. Shut up. Shut up!" he was working himself up, his voice was shaky.

"Isaac, can you hear me?" Rori tried.

"What can I do? I can't fix this now,"

"Isaac?"

"I can't fix this now."

She sat down beside him, only then realising that he was crying.

"I can't fix it," he choked on a sob, "I can't fix it!"

Rori couldn't wait any longer, the crying was too much for her not to do anything. She put her hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "Isaac, listen to me. Whatever you're seeing, it's not real." Rori said soothingly, "You're in the motel with me, Rori, your brand new friend, remember?"

Isaac was looking around bewilderedly, still scared out of his mind but not sobbing anymore.

"You're safe, Isaac. You're safe."

"What?" He asked with dread. Rori knew it wasn't her he was talking to. "Grab the chains, and get in."

Rori paused, sudden realisation crashing over her like a wave. He was hearing his dad telling him to get in the freezer. "Isaac, don't listen to him. Isaac, it's not real."

"I said get in." There was a moment of silence where his crying stopped and his face turned down aggressively. " _Get in!_ " he shouted at himself, before jumping back onto the bed with pure fear on his face. He landed on his back, wrapped the pillow around his head, and curled up on his side, shaking.

Rori scrambled up the bed to his side. She tried to pry the pillow covering Isaac's face out of his hands but he was too strong, his grip too tight. Something like this had never happened to any werewolves she knew. She had no idea how to handle this. She didn't know any of Isaac's pack, nor anyone who might be able to help with this kind of thing.

The thing she did know for certain: no amount of her trying to wake him up from his hallucination was going to work.

So she did the only thing she could. She comforted him.

Rori laid down behind him, bending to his shape, and curled an arm under his and around his shoulder. She'd always wondered what it would be like to be the big spoon, it was with morbid amusement that she found herself doing it when her new werewolf friend was vividly hallucinating his worst fears.

She was trying to help but she didn't know what to do.

"Shhh," she whispered into his neck, "Shhh, it's okay."

He only whimpered and curled up into himself tighter.

"You're not alone, do you hear me?" She found her thumb taking on a mind of its own, rubbing back and forth across his shoulder soothingly. "You're not alone, Isaac, I'm right here with you. Just listen to my voice, okay? Just listen to me, I'm here. You're just imagining it, it's not real. You're safe."

Rori didn't know how long she held Isaac against her, whispering into his ear. He would flinch or whimper in fear every so often, but other than that, he was fine.

Eventually she heard muffled yelling from the next room over. She tentatively unfurled from Isaac's sweaty form and dragged herself further up the bed. She put her ear against the wall, and if the rooms were similar, she figured she was listening in on their bathroom.

"Hurry up, Stiles!" A girl cried. "He's drowning!"

"Yeah, I'm trying!"

Rori leapt to her feet, dashing out of the room and throwing open the unlocked door one room down. A girl was dancing on the spot, panicked, watching a boy with a flare lean over the bathtub. To Rori's horror she realised there was another kid submerged under the water, trapped by the vault pinning down his chest. The boy shoved the flare under the water, into the drowning kid's exposed shoulder.

The vault was suddenly thrown across the room as the boy breached the surface. His eyes were glowing a brilliant yellow, his dark skin was glistening with water under the harsh lights of the bathroom. His top and bottom canines were fully bared as he growled ferociously. Another werewolf.

The boy and girl scurried backwards out of the way as quickly as possible to avoid both the vault and the claws lashing out. The girl had orange hair and big, pouty lips. Rori recognised her as the queen bee of Beacon Hills High School, Lydia Martin. The boy – Stiles, Lydia had called him – was rather tall and scrawny, a splattering of moles laid across his neck and face. He turned to see Rori standing in the doorway panting heavily, and a look of dread crossed his pale face.

"This isn't what it looks like, I swear to-"

She didn't know if she could trust these people, but if they knew how to bring Isaac back, she had to try something. So Rori cut him off. "Isaac needs help!"

Lydia and Stiles looked at each other momentarily before taking off after Rori, who was already making haste to get back to Isaac. She didn't want to leave him alone for too long; she didn't know what he might do to himself.

They burst through the door, Rori stopping short only a few steps into the room to see Isaac's bed immaculate. And empty.

"He was right here," She stressed, pulling at her hair. "I've been with him all night!" She couldn't bear to think of all the horrid ways he could have hurt himself since she had run off and abandoned him.

She turned to see Stiles looking at Lydia expectantly, who had her eyes closed as if she were concentrating hard. Her eyes shot open and she inhaled shakily.

"Under the bed." She whispered.

Stiles began creeping towards the bed before Rori rolled her eyes and overtook him. She ripped the covers back and dropped to her knees. As the light hit Isaac's eyes, he scurried further back into the shadows.

Determined, she reached cautiously under the bed. "Isaac, listen to my voice. I know you're scared and confused, so just take my hand, okay? You're safe with me." Her fingers brushed against his and she slipped her hand into his sweaty palm. Instinctively, he gripped onto her. His grip was tight enough to make her wince, but if it offered him some distant form of comfort then she would give it to him. She turned her head to Stiles. "Do it."

Stiles stumbled to his knees and peered at Isaac's terrified face. "Hey, Isaac. I got something here for you." Then he stuck the flare under the bed.

Isaac's grip almost became unbearable until it disappeared. A deadly growl emanated from the darkness and Stiles crawled backwards immediately. Rori wasn't quick enough. As she retracted her hand from under the bed, his claws caught in her flesh. She clamped her lips shut to stifle her whimper.

In the next moment, Isaac was scurrying out, knocking her over in a haste to escape the small space he was stuck in.

He sat, his back resting against the side of her bed, breathing heavily. He was covered in a sheen of sweat – worse than earlier when she was holding him – and his eyes darted around in a panic before they settled on Stiles. "What the hell happened?"

Stiles let out a huff of relief and put his hand on his thighs to steady himself. He looked directly at Rori. "That's something I'd like to find out."

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	5. Chapter 5

_University isn't as horrible as I originally anticipated. Working through my first slew of assessment is, however, just as unenjoyable as predicted. I've decided that updates will be every 2 to 4 weeks._

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 **CHAPTER 4**

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Rori sat on the edge of Isaac's bed, stroking the damp blonde hair from his forehead.

Before she had been able to reply to Stiles, Isaac had passed out. She, Stiles and Lydia managed to lift him onto his bed, and then the latter two had moved into the corner and started whisper-yelling at each other. Rori didn't doubt it was about her.

Lydia rolled her eyes, grabbed Stiles by the arm, and dragged him over to stand across from Rori. "Can you please just explain what happened to him so we can get this sorted out?" Lydia said to her.

"I'm not really sure myself, actually." Rori explained calmly, moving her eyes to the pair standing before her. "We talked for a little while, I went to sleep, and when I woke up he was talking to someone that wasn't there. I'm pretty certain he was imagining his dad." Rori continued stroking his hair absentmindedly as she spoke. "Anyway, he wouldn't snap out of it, so I just stayed with him and made sure he didn't have, like, a fit or something. A little while later I heard your yelling through the wall and I went to see what was happening, and here we are."

"That's all well and good," Stiles quipped sarcastically, "But that doesn't help us figure out who the hell you are."

"Rori. Human." She smiled.

The boy wet his lips. "Stiles. Also human."

"Lydia. Human."

"Well, we, uh, we're not sure, we're still working that out."

Lydia rolled her eyes at Stiles.

"So there's us three," Rori counted aloud. "Then there's Isaac, and… who was the drowning one?"

"Boyd." Lydia chirped.

"Us and Isaac and Boyd." Rori confirmed. "Anyone else?"

Stiles regarded her warily. "A few, but you don't need to know that."

"I just spent the night helping one of your pack members," Rori argued. "The least you could do is give me a general number about how big your pack is."

Stiles waved his hand about animatedly. "But that just brings up the question: why are you trying to help Isaac?!"

She tilted her head, confused. "He's my friend."

"You've known him for like two seconds!"

She shook her head. "So what? I make friends fast, there's nothing wrong with that."

"Fine, whatever. You're friends." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, a hand on his hip. He gestured to how she was brushing his hair. "Could you at least stop touching him? The dude's unconscious for Christ's sake. It's just creepy."

Rori grimaced and drew her hand away. "Sorry." She stared down at the sleeping boy's face. There was a harsh burn mark covering the left side of his jaw, it was healing rapidly, but it still looked painful. "Did you really have to stick the flare in his face? Wouldn't literally _anywhere else_ have been more convenient?"

"You try pinning a flare on a werewolf." Stiles snapped. "He wouldn't stop flinching around in the darkness. It's freaking difficult, okay?"

"Okay." Rori chuckled softly. "I won't judge your flare-sticking skills next time."

He huffed, pleased, before something caught his gaze and he frowned

"Hey, err, Rori, you're bleeding." Rori looked down at her arm, the searing pain she had been ignoring catching up to her. There was blood gushing down her forearm onto the orange bedsheets, pouring from three horizontal slashes in the flesh just below her elbow. The skin was torn open messily. It looked like something out of a slasher film.

"Oh, geez." Rori said slowly. "I totally forgot about that."

"Forgot about it? _Forgot about it?_ " Stiles exclaimed, "What is that, scratch marks? Did he claw you? Those are really deep, let me see." He went to get a closer look but instantly paled. "Oh my God, that is a lot of blood. There's so much blood."

He looked a little sick as he turned his back on her and clasped his hands behind his head. Lydia sprung up, hit with an idea. "I have an emergency kit in my bag, wait right there."

Rori watched as she hurried out of the room in her unnecessarily high heels with a determined smile on her face. She clamped a palm over her open wounds and looked up at Stiles. "I like her; she seems pretty brilliant."

Stiles gazed out the empty, open doorway. "Yeah," he agreed dreamily, "She sure is."

"So," Rori started, laughing dryly, "Of all the ways I thought this night could have possibly gone, I must say this was certainly never one of them."

Stiles snorted. "Welcome to my life. I can't even count the number of times I've found myself in a situation like this."

"What, werewolves having hallucinations bad enough to make them suicidal?" She quirked a brow.

"No, no. This is definitely a new one for me." He sighed and sat on her bed. "I meant the overall unpredictable, constantly reoccurring, I'm-way-out-of-my-depth, life-threatening danger."

"I can relate to that. This one time when I was fourteen, a beta went rogue and tried to rip my head off to spite his alpha." She pulled the neckline of her shirt to the side to expose a long scar running from the nape of her neck to the tip of her shoulder. "The alpha threw him off me just in time, luckily."

Stiles looked at her curiously. "Someone tried to literally rip your head off, and you don't hate werewolves after that?"

Rori smiled. "Think of all the werewolves you know, and pick your favourite. Now, if another werewolf tried to murder you, would you hate your werewolf friend because they're like the one who tried to hurt you?"

Stiles looked appalled. "Of course not, he's my best friend!"

"I see people for _who_ they are, not _what_ they are. I'd lose half of my closest friends and family if I hated werewolves."

"You know, kid," Stiles said, "I'm actually starting to like you." She started to say something when he looked down and paled again. "Oh Jesus, you're still bleeding. Can you just, like, stop please?"

She laughed just as Lydia came hurrying into the room with a purple, sparkly bag in her hand. She tipped the contents out onto the covers where there wasn't a blood stain. And started picking things from the pile that she needed.

Rori snorted. "You keep your medical kit in a glamour bag?"

Lydia cocked her head with a preppy smile. "Of course. What's not to like about being prepared _and_ fabulous."

"That's-" Rori paused. "Actually, I have no argument against that."

Lydia stood up. "Come on, we've gotta wash it out before I do anything." Stiles stood to follow them, but Lydia quickly held up a single finger at him. "Not you, Stiles. You have to stay and watch over Isaac, just in case."

The boy sighed in defeat and then sat back down on the bed. Lydia grabbed Rori by the arm and practically dragged her to the shower. "Take off your shirt." She ordered.

"You know, you're beautiful and all," Rori pulled off her shirt and threw to the shower floor, "But you should at least buy me dinner first."

Lydia rolled her eyes and reached over, turning the taps until she was satisfied with the temperature. "The water isn't very pressurised, so it's not going to open the wound any further, but it's still going to hurt." She made eye contact with her, "A lot."

Rori rolled both her shoulders and then nodded. Lydia guided her arm under the stream.

"Holy shit!" Rori cried and tried to wrench her arm away. Lydia held fast with a surprising amount of strength, not letting her move. Rori bent double and gripped the lip of the tub. The pain was worse than when Isaac had actually clawed her, like the droplets of water were needles stabbing right into her open wounds. "How long is this gonna take?" She hissed through clenched teeth.

The water stopped running and Lydia answered, "It's done." She pulled Rori's arm closer to her and inspected the cuts. Now that the blood wasn't in the way, they two girls could see clearly the three gashes on the inside of her arm, just under her elbow. They were deeper than either had originally thought. "Okay, these are going to need stitches, which I can't do." Lydia explained. "But I know someone who can. I'll just have to wrap it up until we find her; you can't lose any more blood than you already have."

Rori nodded and obediently followed her back into the main room. Lydia explained to Stiles that Rori would need stitches, and that they would have to find 'her', to which Stiles protested, but ultimately surrendered.

Lydia placed a considerably large gauze pad over Rori's cuts, which had already begun bleeding again, and then wrapped a bandage firmly over the top. "This will hold until we can get some stitches into you."

Rori regarded Lydia with admiration. "You sure know what you're doing."

Lydia smiled – warmly, for the first time – and clipped the bandage closed. "Thank you."

"This is a great bonding moment and all," Stiles said from his spot, his eyes covered and his neck flushed, "But could you, you know, put on a shirt please?"

"Embarrassed by a little skin, Stiles?" Rori teased as she walked past him and fished through her bag for a moment. She pulled on a green t-shirt. "You can look now."

"Thanks. And for the record, I wasn't embarrassed, I was," He fumbled to come up with something, "I was – I was respecting your decency!" He looked pleased at having thought of it.

"Sure thing, buddy." Rori said, obviously not believing him.

Lydia cleared her throat. "Rori's literally going to bleed out unless she gets stitches, so I'd appreciate if you guys took this a little more seriously. Now, we need to go find-"

The door burst open and in the doorway stood a tall brunette girl. Seeing her friends, she exhaled in relief. "Oh, thank God you're alright. Ethan and Boyd are both okay, but I can't find Scott anywhere." She froze when she noticed the stranger in the room, the wounded Isaac on the bed, and the worried expressions on Stiles and Lydia's faces. "Who are you?"

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	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 5**

Stiles jumped to his feet, recognising her subconsciously taking a fighting stance, and stood in front of the girl in the doorway. "Allison, this is Rori, she's… She's a new friend. Rori, this is Allison. She's a hunter, so she's been taught how to patch people up."

Rori stepped away, a scowl on her face. "There is no way in hell I'm letting a _hunter_ near enough to even _touch_ me," she said in a dangerously low voice.

Stiles looked a little shocked. "Rori, you're going to bleed out unless you get stitches. I trust Allison with my life, okay? Just let her help."

Rori shook her head. "I lost my aunt to hunters, they strung her up like a piñata and sliced her in half."

Stiles looked between the two girls. "Rori, a werewolf nearly succeeded in ripping off your head, and yet you don't hate them. Look, you said you see people for _who_ they are, not _what_ they are. Allison is a friend trying to help more than she is a hunter, so please… just let her help."

Rori sighed, realising he was right: she was judging this girl for being a hunter. She sat down on the bed nodded her head at Allison.

The girl sat at her side without making eye contact and began unwrapping the bandage, then peeled away the gauze pad. "Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-mêmes."

Rori's face contorted in confusion.

"'We protect those who cannot protect themselves.'" Allison looked up at Rori. "I'm the last living female descendant in the Argent line. After so many people died because of the feud between us and those we hunt, I changed the family's code. We protect, we don't like to kill."

"I'm sorry," Rori pursed her lips. "About being so harsh on you before. I saw you as a hunter and not a person."

Allison smiled as she threaded the string through the eye of the needle. "I forgive you." She pressed her thumb into the flesh around Rori's wounds, trying to gauge how deep they were. Allison looked between the three people surrounding her. "How the hell did this happen?"

"She got clawed by Isaac." Stiles answered.

"But it wasn't his fault," Rori defended him, "He was hallucinating."

Allison nodded. "Okay, well, I can fix this up easy, but it's going to take a while to heal completely." She gestured at the wound vaguely, "And with the way the skin's been torn, all three slashes are gonna leave a scar."

Rori smirked. "I'll just add it to the collection." She didn't miss Stiles discretely covering his smile.

Allison pulled Rori's arm closer and rested it in her lap. She looked up at Rori, pity in her eyes. "This is going to sting a little." Then she pushed the needle through Rori's skin.

Rori cried out and clamped her free hand over her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes as Allison wove the needle in and out of her flesh. Stiles took one look at what was happening and shook his head, turning his back, looking as though he were about to be sick. Rori continued to muffle her sobs until Allison finished stitching the third and final cut. "All done."

Rori dropped her hand and let out a shaky sigh of relief. "That," She panted, as she wiped away her tears, "Was the worst thing I've ever experienced in my entire life."

Allison cleaned around the wounds with an antiseptic wipe and then placed a fresh gauze pad over them, wrapping them in a bandage again. "You can ditch the bandages in a week, but the gauze pad has to stay until I say the stitches can come out, okay? Make sure to replace it every day so there's no chance of infection."

Rori nodded. "Thanks, doc."

Allison smiled at the name and packed everything away into Lydia's bag. She rinsed her hands in the bathroom sink, then joined them as they started discussing what to do next.

"So, this Scott guy," Rori said, "I'm guessing he's a werewolf too?"

Stiles sighed, figuring it useless to lie. "Yes, Scott's a werewolf. There's me, Lydia, Allison, Isaac, and Boyd. That's basically our whole pack."

Rori narrowed her eyes. "What about the Ethan that Allison mentioned?"

"He's not one of us." Allison explained. "Him and his twin, Aiden, are both part of the Alpha Pack."

"A pack made up entirely of freaking _alpha werewolves_ , by the way." Stiles stressed.

Rori sighed. "Delightful," She said sarcastically, "Anything else?"

"There's been four human sacrifices in the past week." Said Stiles.

Rori's jaw dropped. "Are you serious? I'm gone a week and there's four murders."

"Human sacrifices." Stiles corrected.

She shot him a look and he closed his mouth. "Do you know who's doing it?"

"No," Lydia said, "We know that it's a Darach, though. We just don't know who the Darach actually is."

Rori nodded in understanding.

"Wait, do you know what a Darach is?" Stiles asked.

"Yes, I know what a Darach is. I'm not an idiot." Rori rolled her eyes before fiddling with the clip on her bandage. "So, what do we do now?"

"Us three," Allison gestured to herself, Stiles and Lydia, "Are going to find Scott before he hurts himself. You," She looked at Rori, "Are going to stay here and keep an eye on Isaac. You can't be doing anything too strenuous with that arm."

"Okay, doc. You can count on me."

When the three of them had left and the door clicked shut, Rori crawled over her bed and onto Isaac's. She laid down beside him and looked up at the ceiling.

Rori was sent to Beacon Hills to live away from the drama that came with being a part of the shapeshifter world. Now here she was, smack-bang in the middle of it once again. She didn't mind it, however; this was the world she had grown up in since she was nine. She felt comfortable dealing with shapeshifters. The Darach was another problem. Though she knew of the dark Druids, she'd never encountered one before.

If she called her parents, they'd bring her straight back to Forestdale and she'd be stuck in werewolf territory war. If she stayed here, she'd have to try and avoid the Darach and the Alpha Pack.

It was one threat or the other.

Involuntarily, her eyes began drooping. She fought to keep them open, but less than an hour's sleep was catching up to her. Her eyes fell shut before she could stop them.

* * *

"Rori." Someone was shaking her shoulder. "Rori, wake up."

She opened her eyes, rubbing them groggily to clear away the blurriness. "Lydia?"

"We found Scott, everyone's okay." The redhead told her. "But we're all going to crash in the school bus tonight, just to be safe. Scott said that you're gonna join us."

Rori nodded her head and tried to sit up, only to be pulled back down. She looked at what was stopping her to find that her good arm was pinned underneath Isaac's side. She had been big-spooning him. Again.

"Dammit." She cussed, pushing at Isaac's shoulder and slipping her arm free. "How long was I asleep?"

"Not long. You look like you're enjoying yourself though."

Rori grumbled and stood up, running a hand through her hair. "Oh shush. We were both on our backs when I fell asleep. It's not my fault."

Lydia inspected her nails as though she weren't paying attention.

"So anyway," Rori continued, "How do we get him to the bus?" She spared a glance down at a sleeping Isaac.

"Scott and Stiles are coming up to get him. You just worry about getting both of your things down there, 'kay?"

Rori nodded at Lydia and began putting everything together. She shouldered her and Isaac's bags and then scooped his lacrosse bag under her arm, following Lydia out the door. They made their way onto the bus and Rori placed the bags onto one seat, sitting in the row behind. Boyd was two rows ahead of her to the left, and Allison and Lydia two rows directly behind. Stiles and another boy – Scott, she presumed – were walking beside Isaac, who barely even half awake. They helped Isaac get seated in the row opposite her and then when Stiles left to sit with the two girls in the back, Scott turned to Rori.

"Stiles told me what you did for Isaac," he said, "How you stayed with him and then got help. I just wanted to say thank you, and if you ever need anything, all you have to do is ask."

Rori smiled tiredly. "I was just helping a friend, there's no need for thanks."

Scott nodded and then moved to walk away, before pausing and sniffing the air. "Are you still bleeding?"

Rori held out her arm into the light and frowned at the clean bandage. "I don't think so."

"Hey, Allison," Scott called, "Can I get some help here?"

Allison was there, unwrapping the bandage in a second, and exposing the blood-soaked gauze pad underneath.

"Well that explains why I've been feeling so dizzy." Rori joked dryly.

Allison peeled away the pad. "You've torn open some of your stitches. Only two or three, I think." Rori blinked heavily and then Allison had a needle poised over her arm. "I'm just gonna redo the stitches now."

Rori's heart started racing. She tried desperately to pull her arm back towards her but Scott grabbed her wrist. Even if he wasn't a werewolf, Rori was too weak to fight back.

"No, no, no." She tried desperately. "I can't do that again, not again."

Allison looked to Scott for confirmation, who nodded. Allison pushed the needle into Rori's skin for the second time that night. Rori screamed, and Scott put his free hand over her mouth. "I'm so sorry, Rori, but if we don't do this you'll bleed out."

Isaac stirred in his half-conscious state. "Can anyone smell blood?" He mumbled with his eyes closed before falling silent again.

Rori's scream turned into whimpers and Scott thought it safe to remove his hand.

"Finished!" Allison declared. The gauze pad and bandage were replaced quickly, and Rori was soon left alone.

Rori slumped against the window, splaying her legs along the seat. She saw Isaac stir again and mumble under his breath. She was tempted for a moment to go over to him, though she wasn't sure what she would do. Wake him? Talk to him? Hold him and comfort him like she had done earlier tonight? No, there was no reason for her to get up and move any closer to him than she already was. Besides, he didn't look upset or anything.

So she resisted the urge, and let herself fall back into sleep knowing she was in the company of friends.

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